


Mother

by PETITLAPIN120



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Childhood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:49:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9827261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PETITLAPIN120/pseuds/PETITLAPIN120
Summary: ¿Who is the most important person in a child's life? His mother.Dib always wondered where his yours, if someday he would see her, if someday he would know her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I discovered that I have a weakness for writing about a younger Dib X3  
> I just came up with another idea after this and then another and then another...  
> ... I will try to stop the waterfall ideas as much as I can, but while... enjoy the reading.  
> Invader Zim belongs to Jhonen Vasquez. The story is mine.

Dib was 4 years old when he began to wonder where his mother was.

It had been his first day at kindergarten, the installations of the place was called Skool at whose entrance his father bid him farewell promising that he would come in the afternoon.

"¡Have fun!"  Said his father with his little sister in his arms, before turning to the car and leaving.

It was not so bad.

Most of the day they were allowed to draw what they wanted, in each table there was a generous amount of materials like; colored sheets, crayons, a rubber knob, and round-tipped scissors.

Each group of children remained silent while they transmitted in the paper their innocent imagination, Dib drawing a spaceship told in front of his companions the small adventure that had been invented while he drew it.

"¿Why is the astronaut green?" A boy asked, picking up his nose.

"¡He is not an astronaut! ¡He's an alien!" exclaimed Dib raising his drawing well so that they could see it, "the aliens are green, bad and do not like to wear pants!"

"¡He's a green little man!" Said a girl with violet hair, laughing.

"¡He's an alien!" Dib insisted.

"It's the same."

"¡Nu-uh!"

The classroom had burst out laughing as Dib continued to relate how one could come at any moment, with the childish enthusiasm that characterized each child, Dib liked the attention they gave him and that encouraged him to speak more.

That would change with the passage of the years, but returning to Dib, this was the day in which he had more fun.

The hours passed quickly for him and soon the time came to return home.

As Dib eagerly awaited the arrival of his father, he was anxious to tell her how much fun he had and all the new things he had learned, when he came out the doors of Skool he was confused when saw in the entrance a pile of ladies receiving in their arms his companions.

And what disconcerted him most was that he saw them running confidently into his arms, laughing between their kisses as they told them how had been his day was.

Driven by curiosity, Dib stopped one of his companions, a boy named Melvin, in the doorway before he left.

"¿Why did ladies come?" Asked Dib pointing, what to him, was a strange sight.

Melvin gave him a curious look.

"They're moms."

Dib was more dismayed than ever, blinking confused looking back at the scene before him, trying to remember where he had heard that word.

"¿Mothers?" Murmured Dib.

"If you do not have?", Melvin asked.

For the first time in his young existence, Dib Membrane looked with disbelief at the crowd before him and then at his companion, before slowly shaking his head.

He was speechless.

"¡Mommy!", Melvin exclaimed suddenly as he noticed the yellow car coming in and turned to Dib with a cheerful smile, "well, ¡good-bye!"

Dib made a faint farewell gesture as he watched as Melvin jumped joyfully into the arms of what he now knew was his _"mother"_.

He tightened the straps of his school backpack while he looked away from the scene he made the clue. Praying that his father would come at this moment.

He did not come until much later, when there was no one else to pick up, Dib had waited for him sitting at the foot of the steps and jumped when he saw his black car arrive.

He hurried to the door of the car and bolted it up, threw it from her seatbelt, and fastened it to her, and beside her, Gaz was asleep and looked ahead as the car began to move.

"¿How was your first day, son?" His father asked in a laughing voice, his hands on the steering wheel and the view ahead.

He had had a good day, apparently.

"Well... it was so much fun."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"They taught us about colors."

"I see, very well."

"They gave us some free time, draw a rocket."

"That sounds great fun, you show it to me when we get home."

Dib looked at his father, so happy for what he had told him, even though he still kept his eyes on the track.

He looked out the window at some familiar houses, they were coming home.

"Dad…"

"¿Yes son?"

"¿Why... why do not we have Mom?"

The car stopped with a stop, had parked on the sidewalk, Gaz woke up in a bad mood when the engine of the vehicle turned off.

They were at home.

"Son... ¿what did you say?" His father stammered in a weak voice, tightening his grip on the rudder.

"Why did not we have Mama," Dib said nervously.

His father had hunched over the rudder and then straightened up, running his hand through his hair, combing his disordered hair.

"That's a good question," he said.

Gaz whimpered in her baby chair, in the face of discomfort, she began to cry.

His father got out of the car and the minute later he was with Gaz in his arms trying to calm her, Dib followed them inside the house, no one uttered another word.

Dib watched his father go to the kitchen with curiosity and confusion, his father _was a great scientist_ and had always managed to answer every question they asked, answering with certainty and with a security that he admired.

For this reason, he was confused when his father did not respond immediately.

He had always responded with exaggerated speed to every question he asked, never letting it run for so long.

Dib w But the opportunity presented itself after dinner, when her little sister was finally asleep in her crib, Dib went down to the dining room to find her father sitting in the table with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands.

Just as Dib hoped to find him.as curious, but I wait patiently for him to finish Gaz's attend to ask him again.

"Dad," I call his attention, "¿why do not we have mom?"

His father gave a decorous sigh, rubbing his eyes under the goggles as if he was sleepy, looked back at Dib and asked him to sit down.

Dib smiled and jumped on one of the chairs on the table, once sitting down his father sighed again, looked at him closely.

"¿Do I have a mother?", He asked impatiently.

His father leaned his forehead in one hand and nodded.

Relief swept over her small body, seemed to feel better for a moment before another question crept through her head.

"¿Where is?" He asked, looking around as if he expected to see her hidden in the kitchen.

"She's not here," his father murmured, stopping his search.

Dib looked at him confused and somewhat disappointed.

His father took a deep breath, took a sip of his coffee and continued.

"To begin with... she's alive."

Dib stared at him for a few minutes and nodded in surprise, wondering why he would not.

"She's alive and well," his father went on awkwardly. "She... looks so much like you."

His father seemed to smile, Dib could swear to him despite the robe, but the way he said it looked sad. And melancholy.

"¿Why is not she here?" Dib asked with growing curiosity.

"It's... it's complicated," his father replied.

"¿How complicated?" He insisted.

"Dib, it's not easy to explain," his father chided him, Dib shrank back in his chair, his father sighed. "When you're older... when you're older you'll understand."

Dib nodded, still had a lot of questions he wanted to ask, but he just nodded.

His father did not seem to have any intention of continuing to speak and he understood.

That night he understood that his father, like any other person, could not have all the answers.

...

When Dib was 5 years old he wondered how his mother would look.

The year had passed like a shooting star, winter was passing and autumn was beginning, nursery was crammed with new pupils, which was fine.

More people to listen to their stories.

"The system of an alien is different from us," Dib said, showing some of his drawings in front of the room, like every free hour, "I saw him in a movie last night, that if they put their eggs on you...", changed image. "¡Their babies will pop open your chest!"

The entire classroom gave an exclamation of horror, both by the explicitness of his image and the explanation itself, one of his companions vomited at his lunch.

Her teacher, a tall, sulky woman who always wore black, growled with displeasure at her presentation.

But Dib no longer cared, his teacher she disliked everything.

"That was disgusting Dib, come back to your seat before that someone else vomits," his teacher said sternly.

"Yes, Miss Bitters," he replied, returning quickly to his table.

"All right, everyone," said the teacher, rising from her desk, "as them well know in two days a sacred festival will be celebrated... ¿can anybody tell me what it is?"

A boy with curly red hair reached out his hand, shook it with energy, stretching himself in place as much as he could to be seen. Miss Bitters sighed and pointed.

"¡The Mother's Day!" Replied the boy with emotion.

"Yes, Keef," said the teacher indifferently, "Mother's Day is celebrated, a day where the supposedly proud mothers are honored by their poor offspring and their husbands, proving to her... how much they are worth to society..."

"¡And they make them pretty cards!" Keef exclaimed, raising his hand again.

"Yes, and that's what the director has ordered, as part of the program," growled Miss Bitters, "so bring a picture of your mother's mother tomorrow, to be able to make the requested card..."

"¡I'll make mine extra bright!" Keef interrupted she again, "¡my mom is expecting a baby! ¡And as a future big brother I will give my mom the best mothers day card! ¡from my brother and me!"

He screeched with radiant emotion and the others sighed indifferently, Miss Bitters stood in front of her table, everyone in her walked away frightened except for Keef.

"Keef."

"¿Yes, Miss Bitters?"

"¡Nobody cares about you!"

The scream ended by frightening Keef, who lost his balance and fell back on his chair. The others burst out laughing as Miss Bitters retreated.

The bell rang announcing the snack time.

Everyone started to take out their lunch boxes and while most of them ate, some children started to comment on the photo they would bring.

"My mom is very pretty, she looks good on everything," Jessica said proudly.

"I'll bring one of the vacations, in that we will appear the two," said Zita smiling.

"Maybe I took one while cooking," Melvin said, chewing an apple, "I like to see it covered in flour."

"You're weird," said Zita, disgusted.

"¿And which will bring your Dib?" Jessica asked suddenly.

Dib did not even take a bite of his peanut and jelly sandwich, when his hunger had evaporated, he put the sandwich on the table and crossed his arms trying to remember.

¿Have you ever seen a picture of your mother?

The answer came so quickly that it hurt.

He had never seen her.

"Uhm, I do not have a picture of my mom..." Dib murmured.

"¿Who does not have a picture of his mother?" Jessica laughs without believing him.

"You never took one while she slept?" Melvin asked, catching everyone's eyes for a moment. "¿What? I like to see her sleep."

"That's scary, it's weird, you're weird," Zita said, pointing he a finger.

"¡I'm not weird!" Melvin said, spitting unintentionally  bits of apple from his mouth. "¡My mom says I'm extraordinary!"

"¡And weird!" Zita retorted.

"¡Extraordinary!", Melvin complain, biting his apple.

But Dib no longer paid any attention to the conversation, how it would end the discussion between Zita and Melvin lacked his interest, I keep his sandwich untouched.

He did not eat all the refreshment.

He thought about the different faces her mother might have, how small her nose could be, what color her eyes would be, how long her hair would be.

When he return home I enter an atrocious hunger, at dinner he devoured his entire dish and repeated one more, tonight they had pizza for dinner.

"Yes that your appetite has opened today, son," said his father, giving him his second plate.

"¡I also want!" Gaz said, showing him his empty plate.

Dib bit a piece of his pizza and smiled, today was one of those rare days when his father could stay for dinner with them, without floating screens or robots.

His father handed another piece of pizza to Gaz when he decided to ask. Who knows if he would have another chance later.

"Dad."

"¿Yes son?"

"¿Do we have a picture of mom?"

Gaz was eating willingly his pizza when his question aroused an unusual interest in his gaze.

He was not the only one who was curious.

His father under the cutlery, leaving his pizza half eaten, I stare at him.

"I need a picture of Mom for her Mother's Day card," Dib explained nervously before the eyes of his father.

It had been a long time since they last talked about her. His father had told him this time that the memory of his mother was very painful for him and since then Dib had avoided the questions about her.

But in this case it was different.

After a few moments of silence, moments that seemed an eternity, his father rose from the table stammering:

"I think... I think I have some's in the basement."

Dib and Gaz shared a look and they both got down from their chairs, Dib had to help her down, and they followed his father as he entered the basement.

The basement was the only place in the house where they were not allowed to enter, it was the first place where his father had installed his laboratory, and because of the experiments he was doing there it was very dangerous for the little children to go snoop.

His father came back with a box in his hands, was full of dust and the way he carried it, Dib could guess that it was heavy.

"I remember having a... here," his father said, leaving the box on the floor.

Dib and Gaz opened it quickly and began to rummage inside her, there were a pile of unclogged documents, a dusty mortarboard, and several photos scattered all over.

"¿What is this?", Gaz asked, spreading the leaves without archiving.

His father took a document and smiled slightly.

"My report card," he replied, looking at the document behind his googles, "it's been years... pure ten," he said proudly.

Dib sacked more study certificates, exams done and passed, his father apparently had a good amount of memories of his academic life.

Then, on taking another document from a university, he found a photograph.

"Dad…"

"¿Yes son?", His father asked, absorbed in his yearbook. I had not seen him in years.

"She... ¿is she?"

His father looked up at the photograph that Dib raised and for a moment could not speak. Then he turned his gaze to another document.

"Yes, Dib," I whisper, nodding.

Dib's eyes flashed with excitement and he looked closely at the picture, his sister stood beside him, Dib the bass so she could see her too.

In the photograph was a young woman, dressed in a dark blue robe, holding a diploma.

His hair was long, black and wavy, his skin was clear, and he had a smile that expressed the victory of the end of his studies. So young and pretty.

With eyes the color of honey.

His mother.

"She's..." Dib gulped, her heart so full of something he could not describe- "...so pretty."

"Certainly it is," his father sighs, rising now. "Why do not we finish dinner?" He turned to them.

Gaz followed him, as hungry as a growing little girl she must be and eager to continue enjoying her father's company.

But Dib no. He was so entranced with the image of his mother that he paid no attention to anything else.

Dib felt something in his heart, something he might have called nostalgia if he had come known her, something that at that moment could only compare with the impression.

"Mama..." Dib whispered with a sad smile.

Dib hugged the photograph.

The next morning he lied: he never brought her.

...

When Dib turned six, his father took them on a trip.

It was a Saturday morning, the sky cleared over the long road, Dib looked out of the moving car window.

They had passed an extensive field of wheat and now I could only see field and more field. Dib yawn.

He had never felt so bored.

Gaz by her side had fallen asleep, long hours of travel by car always put her to sleep, was hugging a small game in his hands.

 _Tetris_ was the most requested game in recent times.

"¿Are we there yet?" Dib squealed asking for a third time in the day.

They had been in the car for two hours, but for a child his age, he felt like eternity.

His father just laughed.

"Just a few more minutes, my son," his father answered in a jovial voice, "just a few more minutes."

"We've been in this car for ages, Dad," Dib complained before looking at him pleadingly, "at least I might know where we're going."

"It's a surprise," said his father, smiling.

Dib threw himself on the seat reluctantly and complained in silence.

About a few seconds later, the car stopped, Dib lazily looked out the window as his father turned off the engine and unbuckled his belt.

Dib did not recognize the big sign that read: _"Welcome to Green City."_

I look around several cars, apparently they were in a parking lot.

"¿Are we there yet?" Dib asked with a fervent need to get out.

But he had to restrain himself when his father told him no.

"We'll have a little break," he said. "I have some business to take care of, son, but do not worry," he hastened to say. "Your surprise gift is an hour from here, I'll do a quick review and then we'll leave."

"¿I can not go with you?", Dib asked, looking at the cars coming and going.

"I'm delighted to be with you, but someone must take care of your little sister," his father replied.

Dib looked at Gaz, who still lay so still on the seat, returned to his father who was already out of the car and sighed with resignation.

"All right," Dib muttered reluctantly.

"That's my son," his father laughed before leaving, "I'll be right back."

Dib glanced behind the window as his father stepped out of the parking lot and sighed with resignation.

This was the most boring birthday of his life.

But nothing could do more than wait.

They spent a long second for little Dib, who was bored just watching people enter and leave the place by car or on foot, turned to Gaz who still slept and he envy her.

At least one in dreams could to entertain.

He leaned against the edge of the window and reached into the pockets of his pants, Dib smiled as he took the picture of his mother, put it in front of him and examined it with the same attention and admiration with which he had first seen it.

I look at her mother's eyes in the picture, as bright and golden as her own, her straight black hair. Smiling sweetly to the camera.

He had had this photograph for some time, he had taken it with him for long trips, Dib thought w"I like going to kindergarten," Dib whispered to his mother's photo, "¿why can not I go more?"

This would be his senior year in day care, a last year when he should say goodbye to crayons and games and start making a big boy, next year Dib was going to become a primary school student and several things were going to change.

"I wish you could be here with me," Dib whispered. "I know you'd tell me what to do."hich gave him luck. And in this time so full of change was more than needed.

Sometimes Dib wanted to believe that just talking to her through the photo was enough, pretending that she can hear him, although in fact it was not.

Dib sighed before none answer and He turned his eyes to the window hoping to see his father come back, maybe he would ask her to go to the bathroom as an excuse to get out of the car, but turning his eyes to the entrance saw something that left him perplexed.

At that moment Gaz opened his eyes lazily and gave a weak yawn, rubbing his eyes and clinging to his game that was on his lap. I blink with surprise as I see Dib about to get out of the car.

He had this strong feeling in his chest, turned to Gaz and looked at her for a few minutes before replying:

"¡I found her!"

Gaz looked at him, frowning, confused by his meaningless response, but Dib no longer lingered to wait for an answer from her.

He started to run.

He ran as fast as his legs and his heart allowed. I run as if his life is gone.

He had seen it her. It was here.

His mother.

His mother was here.

Dib ran to find it, he had so much to say, so many things to ask. He had missed her so much, had dreamed of the moment when she would return, with the day when she would not have to see her picture more to see her.

Fantasizing with the day that its presence became something real.

Dib's heart pounded against his exalted chest.

Her was here. ¡Her was here!

"Mom," Dib thought, his pulse quickening and joy fueling his strength, "¡mom! ¡Mom! ¡MOM!"

He did not stop, he would not stop, not now, not ever, ever.

Dib followed her into the town, almost ignoring the flashy storefronts of the toy shops, rejecting the sweet scent of the bakeries she passed, he only had his eyes on his mother. Who was so far and so close to his reach.

He saw her turn a street and Dib ran after her, was stunned when he had to dodge a group of young people who blocked his way, was disoriented by the chatter of teenagers and had to break open to be able to pass through his worn jeans and his creepy laughs.

When I manage to leave them behind, I look around in anguish, looking at the street from side to side, unable to see it.

¿Had he lost her?

¿Had she missed the only opportunity she had to see her?

¿Would he never see her again?

Dib looked from all sides, the adrenaline of his pursuit was leaving his body, while his hopes faded with a painful slowness of his heart.

Then he saw her walking near a restaurant across the street.

Dib crossed almost without looking if a car was coming or not, he reached the other side, she was about to enter the premises. He it was so close.

Dressed in a summer blue dress, long black hair and wavy as in her photograph, she smiled sweetly as she finished a call from her cell phone.

At that moment Dib cared nothing more than what he was about to do.

A smile took over his face, the biggest he could give, filling his lungs to scream full of happiness.

"¡Mom...!"

"¡Mom!"

Dib stopped and at this moment the world around him seemed to stop too.

Of all his dreams, this one would never have occurred to him, in those dreams he imagined meeting her. In her dreams she opened her arms wrapping him in that longed, affectionate and maternal embrace, while she professed how much she had missed them and never again would be separated from them.

On those nights Dib did not know what the sound of his voice was like.

But at that moment, when she spoke, when she could finally hear his voice. It was the most painful moment of his life.

Because that meant that it was no longer a dream, that this was happening, that this was real.

"¡Mom!", yells a little girl with long hair, as black as hers, combed in a french braid. "¡Dad and I were waiting for you, Mom!". She looked at her with a pout. "¿What took you so long?"

That girl jumped into **_her_** mother's arms and felt her heart crumble when she received it with a smile, sweet and warm as in her photograph, before leaning on the little girl's forehead to kiss her fondly.

Dib could not take his eyes off the scene. As much as I wanted to.

"I'm sorry, honey, I was busy," she apologized, sounding clear, sweet and sincere. Dib cringed again at his voice, "it will not happen again."

The girl shared a smile just like hers and hugged her, Dib felt at that moment something was burning in his heart.

He wanted to run... but he just stayed there. He stood there.

He could only move again when they entered the room, Dib ran to the front of the restaurant windows, saw the rustic design and the clientele there. Chatting, laughing, eating.

But he could only see one thing.

They were seated at a round table with someone else, a man who, of course, was not her father, a man who embraces her as if she were his.

But the most heartbreaking thing was to see her, her mother, share her joy to the girl and that man. Embracing them smiling, happy that they were here, giving them that embrace that Dib had always wanted to receive from her. Giving them all their love.

"¿Why?", Dib stabbing, starting to sting his eyes. "¿why...?"

¿Why did her mother behave as if they were her family?

Dib felt the grip of a firm hand on his shoulder, looked away from the painful scene and watched the face of his father who looked at him as if he understood what he was feeling. What I was suffering.

And Dib again asked why he was not with them. With his father, with his sister, with him... ¡they were his family!

"Dad..." began Dib, feeling the hot, treacherous tears roll down his cheeks. "¿Why?"

He began to sob.

His father bent down to Dib and took him into his arms, Dib clung to them frightened that he was going to disappear from moment to moment, his crying unleashed without any remedy.

They returned to the car in silence, his father did not say a word while they were away, even when he returned it to the car. His father just started the engine and drove to the exit, taking them out of that small town.

They went home straight back that afternoon. Dib did not complain.

Nor did he demand a response either, for the first time in his life there was something he did not really want to know.

That night Dib looked at the photo of her in the solitude of her room, I look at the smile sincere of the woman to whom now he was completely unknown, he felt pain... rage. An infinite sadness.

He could not bear to see her anymore.

He opened the drawer of his closet and hid the photo in the bottom of his clothes before going to sleep.

He did not remember him again.

...

When Dib entered elementary school the questions about his mother ceased.

And began the growing problems that would later define his personality.

...

When Dib turned 7, he stopped crying for her to cry for himself.

The primary was a hard reality for Dib.

The jokes and games he had enjoyed earlier in his younger years became sadly cruel and he began to understand that no one had actually heard him. That he had only been making fun of him.

...

When Dib was 8 years old his teammates nicknamed him _"crazy"_.

I end up being excluded of the others.

In those moments of pain _she_ appeared in his thoughts, tormented him with promises that already knew would not come true, began to distract his mind with something else to avoid his memory. To be able to forget it her.

 _Mysterious Mysteries_ was starting to seem like a very interesting series.

...

Dib started talking to himself.

But that was no longer a novelty.

In his last years I had only been talking to a photograph.

¿What difference could there be?

...

When Dib turned 9 he only had Gaz left.

She was hard on him, she was hassled too quickly from their conversations and most of the time Dib had to be careful not to invoke her anger. Gaz was officially the only one with who speaking at school.

His father was not coming home so often. Dib stopped hurting him.

He already had other things to occupy his mind.

...

When Dib turned 10, nobody believed him.

No one, absolutely nobody.

Neither in school, nor in his home, nobody in the city.

In moments like this Dib wondered if _she_ had come to believe him.

And then she shook her head and set it aside.

She had already disappointed him enough.

...

When Dib turned 11, he stopped missing her.

There was nothing more important in his life right now, it was that time in Dib's life that he felt he was in the right place.

When he discovered that there were more people than he, he sought to make the truth known.

She was on a major investigation and had no time to miss it.

Soon the image of her began to fade from his memories.

His eyes were now the only thing he could remember.

...

When Dib was 12 when he discovered Zim and his life began to take on a new meaning.

He did not care anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> It was a strange idea, a little sad... I do not know, they will already tell me...  
> Late days in finishing to pass it, ¿what I say to them?: exams, graduation, the promotion of my little sister... etc.  
> I hope them liked it though XT  
> ¡Until the next story!


End file.
